


Cut the String

by Qpenguin98



Series: All the good that won't come out [6]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: :3c, Animal Death, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Dogs, i got... really into it i guess, pet death, specifically, the long awaited return of Fritz and Talley!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 19:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17392286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qpenguin98/pseuds/Qpenguin98
Summary: Angus McDonald is twenty five and life is pretty good.Basil is thirteen and she’s doing, well, she’s not doing quite a well as Angus would hope.





	Cut the String

Angus McDonald is twenty five and life is pretty good. He’s a teacher and a sometimes detective and he’s living with his best friends and he feels relatively better about how things are and how past things affect him. He still doesn’t talk about it often, because no one needs to be burdened with that, least of all his loved ones, so it all gets a little buried, especially when things get bad, but it’s fine! He has Basil for that.

Basil is thirteen and she’s doing, well, she’s not doing quite a well as Angus would hope. She eats less and limps a little and does a lot of resting, not a lot of activity. He leaves her home sometimes, even if it makes him anxious, because its better for her if she stays home. He wants her to be okay, and deep down he knows that she isn’t and that she’s getting old and to the age that border collie’s live to, but he’s not ready to admit that yet. She’s still got some kick in her, hopefully. He’s not ready to let her go yet.

Today is a bad day for Basil, and it’s not the best day for Angus. He feels the jittery and jumpy kind of anxious that he likes having her close for, but she didn’t really move much yesterday and she’s sleeping on the bed now. She seems exhausted. He doesn’t want to go out without her, wants to keep an eye on her, but she shouldn’t need to get up for him, not now. He gives her a pet on the head and she barely lifts her head before going back to sleep. A knot twists in his stomach, but he ignores it and goes out into the living space.

“You want cereal?” Talley asks him. “Because that is all we got.”

“Mm, no. I’m okay,” he says, grabbing a juice and sipping on it. His stomach is twisting itself around too much for him to eat. “I’ll pick something up at the school.”

“You alright?” Fritz asks him around her mouthful of cereal. “Where’s Basil?”

“I’m fine and she’s sleeping. I don’t wanna make her get up today.” He leans against the counter and stares at the floor. “What’s your guys’ schedule today?”

“I got work at noon and then I’m back at eight,” Talley says, rinsing out what Angus assumes was their bowl of cereal.

“I have work in an hour and I get back at four,” Fritz says from the table.

“Would you, um, keep an eye on her when you’re here?” Talley eyes him and he swallows harshly. “Just, uh, keep me updated.”

“Yeah, dude,” Fritz says. Her face is gentle and Angus looks away. “Of course. Do… do you want me to call if—”

“No,” he says quickly. “Don’t, uh, don’t do that. Just, mmm, leave me a note if you’re not home. I don’t want to do that at work.”

“Alright,” Talley says. They offer one scaled hand and Angus slaps it absently. “Call us if you need anything, okay?”

“I’m not gonna need anything, but thanks.”

He finishes his juice and ignores the growing pit in his stomach. Work is soon, and he likes to get there early. The walk isn’t far, but he still rushes, eager to get his mind off things.

He stops in to say hi to Lucas, just a quick wave.

“No Basil today?” he asks.

“Nope,” he says as level as he can. “She’s resting today. She should be fine tomorrow though.”

“Good to hear,” Lucas says sincerely. “If you need anything today just let me know.”

“Thanks,” he says, a little annoyed, but the emotion doesn’t last long enough for him to really care. He has class to set up for.

Students start trickling in a little bit later, and then the small rush of them in the few minutes before the beginning. He opens his mouth to talk, looking at his students—

and then it’s over. They’re all getting up and he has no idea what words just came out of his mouth. He looks at the clock briefly and finds that it’s three hours later. He looks at his students again and finds that they’re different ones than he started with. This is his second class. He just blanked out through two classes. None of them are looking at him weird, so he must have done an alright job of reciting whatever it was he’d planned for the day.

“Professor Mcdonald?” He blinks and looks at the student in front of him. Kensey, that’s this boy’s name.

“Yes Kensey?” He says, still a little shocked at the time passage.

“I know you told us that it was fine to write about whatever topic for the next story, just to make it a mystery and base it off of personal experience, but do you mean that?”

So he’d pulled out that assignment. Good to know what to be expecting. He furrows his brows. “Mean what?”

“That we can write about whatever.” He’s worrying his bag strap and Angus deflates a little.

“Yeah, I meant it. Regular rules apply, obviously. If you’re writing about putting yourself or others in danger I have to—”

“Oh I know,” he says, wrinkling his face. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Go for it.”

He beams a little and nods, turning to leave. “Thanks, professor!”

Angus watches him leave blankly. No other students are left, and he has another class to plan for. But they’re not for another two hours.

He supposes he could run home and check on her, he’s got the time, it’s only twelve thirty.

Packing up his things, Angus locks the door behind him, pocketing the keys. It’s only a fifteen minute walk. And besides, what could have happened in three and a half hours?

There’s no note on the table, and that’s a relief. He walks slowly to the bedroom, trying not to anticipate anything. She’ll be fine. She’s always fine. It’s Basil, she’s been with him for twelve years. It’s going to be okay.

He opens the door and she’s right where he left her, which isn’t too comforting. He watches her for a good minute, and she’s still. Perfectly still. No breathing, no adjusting. There’s a lump in his throat that he ignores, and he goes up to her gingerly, reaching out a tentative hand.

The second he touches her he knows, and he snaps his hand back. She’s stiff, lukewarm, and Angus’s hand is shaking. Okay. Okay! That’s okay! He knew this would happen, knew it was an eventuality, but it’s so soon. It’s been twelve years but it’s too little.

He kind of runs out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He hunches onto the ground, head in his hands. This is fine. It’s just death. Death is his pseudo parent. He’s been around death before. He’s tracked murderers and come too close himself a few times, it’s only death. She’s fine, she’s in the Astral Plane, maybe, he doesn’t actually know where dogs go. He doesn’t want to find out.

Oh gods he has a class to teach in less than two hours. He can’t face his students like this. He doesn’t want to know how he’d act. Badly. He’d over emote or under emote and neither one is good.

He pulls out his stone and dials Taako up, but he gets no answer. He’s at his school then, probably doing some showy thing for the students. It’s fine, he’s got options.

Kravitz’s frequency rings five times and Angus almost gives up on him before he answers.

“Hello Angus, what’s up?” There’s noise in the background, something crashing and some cursing. Someone yells a hello to him in the background.

“Are you busy right now?” He asks as casually as he can. His voice breaks in three separate places so it doesn’t work out too well.

“What’s wrong?” Kravitz asks him, and the chaos in the background quiets.

“Are you busy?” He repeats.

“No, no. We’re meant to be working on paperwork right now but that’s not pressing. Angus, what is it?”

“I need you to call Lucas and tell him I’m cancelling my other class today. If, um, i-if he could send the message out too it would be great.”

“I can do that,” Kravitz says carefully. “Any particular reason why?”

“It’s, um, Basil’s dead,” he whispers into the stone. It’s quiet, no one saying anything, and then Kravitz sighs.

“I’m going to contact Lucas and then I’m coming over, okay?”

“Okay,” he says hoarsely, voice failing him. The stone goes quiet and he lets his hand fall, holding it loosely in his palm. This apartment feels so small.  Everything’s so close to him, so dark. Are the shades closed? He needs to get up, but he can’t make himself. He needs to wrap Basil up in something, can’t just leave her there, but he can’t move. He can feel her room temperature fur on his fingers still, can feel how little give her body had, but how limp she was too. His hands are shaking. Something clatters onto the floor, but it doesn’t matter.

Basil’s dead. She’s dead on top of his blanket and his bed and he’ll never get to see her walk again or feel her weight sitting on his legs or pet a hand through her fur or give her a bath or hold her tightly. He wants her. He wants to hold her close and bury his face in her fur and whisper all his worries and hurts into her body and have her nudge him gently in return, but that won’t happen. That can’t happen. Basil is dead, and he won’t ever get to feel her alive again.

There’s a ripping sound but he doesn’t look up. Footsteps come closer until they reach him, and Kravitz crouches down onto his same level. He begins to say something but then thinks better of it, reaching out a hand and taking Angus’s outstretched one in it, squeezing tightly.

Angus looks at him then, looks at his gentle face and patient eyes and tears start to well up. He lets out a horrified, choked off sob, leaning forward heavily. He doesn’t want to deal with this, this is so much. She can’t be dead. She can’t be dead.

Kravitz shifts to the side and wraps his free arm around Angus’s shoulder, pushing him gently into sitting fully on the floor. His other hand stays wrapped tightly around Angus’s. He falls in against his side, trying and failing not to cry anymore.

He’s not really sure how long they stay like that. There’s an empty feeling settling in his stomach and his tongue is locking up in his mouth but he needs his voice right now, he can’t rely on anything right now, he has himself and that’s it and Basil’s dead and there’s nothing he can do about it. Kravitz leans his head on top of his and it’s been a while since he’s felt so young, but he feels like a child now. He’s an adult, he’s twenty five. He needs to— he needs to get himself together.

He takes a deep breath and shoves everything down as deep as he can. Basil’s dead, which clearly means it’s time for him to not need her anymore. Twelve years is enough. He should be fine, he’s going to be fine.

Kravitz seems to sense that he’s done crying, at least for now, _forever, Angus, you can’t anymore_ , and picks his head back up.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” he says, staring at his hands. They feel twitchy but he tamps that down. It’s fine. He’s fine. “Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem,” Kravitz says, squeezing his hand. Angus doesn’t look at him. “What would you like to do with her?”

“Bury her in the backyard at home?” He suggests, and he hopes desperately that Kravitz knows what home means. He nods and stands, offering his hand to help Angus up. He takes it, wiping at his face and straightening his shirt. Kravitz goes in the bedroom to find her and Angus grabs a stray sheet from the cupboard. He goes into the bedroom, bracing himself, but he doesn’t really need to. No emotion comes to him as he goes up to her and wraps her in the sheet.

She’s limp and stiff but wraps up easily, still a smaller dog after all. Kravitz stands next to him and offers his help but he refuses. This is something he needs to do. She’s his dog, she’s his responsibility.

“Should we call Taako?”

“I tried earlier,” Angus says absently. “He didn’t pick up.”

“I’ll try,” Kravitz says. And then he pauses. “Did you want to let your friends know?”

Oh, he thinks. That’s probably something he should do. But he doesn’t want them to get distracted, or to get upset at work. Fritz is off first, and he’ll probably call her at four, once she’s off. But Talley’s there until eight, thier shift just started, and he doesn’t want them being upset. It can wait.

“I don’t want them getting upset at work. I’ll call them once they’re off.”

“Alright,” Kravitz says, and then he calls Taako.

It rings for a while and just before it shuts off he picks up. “Hey bones, what’s happening?”

“Are you free, currently?”

“I’m up at the school, but we just got done with an assembly. It was pretty baller if I do say so myself.”

“Can you come home? Or do you need to stay there.”

“Why?” Taako sounds worried and Angus hoists Basil up in his arms. “What’s going on, Krav?”

“Basil’s died, and I think you should be there when we bury her.”

“Fuck,” Taako says, and he can hear papers shuffling. “Yeah I can come. How’s Angus?”

“Fine, Taako,” Angus says loud enough to be picked up on the stone.

It’s quiet for a minute and then, “Yeah, I’m coming. You wanna pick me up or should I call Lup and Barry to be there too?”

“You don’t have to,” Angus says at the same time Kravitz says, “Call them, please.”

Angus makes a face and Kravitz eyes him warily. Taako makes a noise on the stone. “Yeah, we’ll be there soon.”

The stone shuts off and Kravitz pockets it. Angus readjusts his hold. He seems to think better of what he was going to say and nods, pulling out his scythe and ripping a hole through the room.

The backyard greets him, all green grass and a tree in the corner. He sets Basil down gently and goes in the shed to grab a shovel. It’s dusty, they don’t use it that often because of magic, but it feels more appropriate to dig it naturally.

“Would you like any help?” Kravitz asks, and Angus shakes his head.

“No, I’ve got this.” He digs at the base of the tree, not a deep hole, not too wide, but it isn’t shallow and it’ll hold her easily. Lup, Barry, and Taako show up eventually, quietly talking. Kravitz joins them and Angus continues digging. He knows they’re talking about him, wondering if he’s okay, what they should do, how they should handle this, and he gets it, but he’ll be fine. He’s old enough to handle things on his own now, that’s what this means.

The hole is dug and he picks her up and puts her down in it, pressing her gently into the dirt, body wrapped in the sheet. There’s a hand on his shoulder and he jumps a bit, but finds it’s just Taako, face twisted up as he looks down at the lump in the hole.

“You wanna say something, kid?”

His throat spasms and he swallows harshly. “She… She was a really good dog.”

“Yeah she was,” Taako says, and his voice is trying to be light and Angus appreciates it. “She was a really fucking good dog.”

Angus picks the shovel back up and pours the dirt back on top of her, patting the ground firm once he’s done. There’s a raised mound, just a bit, where it doesn’t fit back around her body, and he stares at the earth, crumbly pieces packed tight.

His hands feel achy where they held the shovel and there’s dirt on his clothes just a little. Taako’s hand finds his shoulder again and he squeezes. Kravitz comes to his other side and wraps his arm around his as well. It’s comfortable, comforting, but he shouldn’t need it. He’s an adult. Basil’s gone. If he can’t get comfort from her, he can’t get comfort from anyone.

“Sorry,” Angus says, pulling himself away from them. ‘I didn’t mean to… you didn’t all need to come.”

“It’s not a problem, Ango,” Lup says, arm around Barry. “This is important.”

“Can someone take me back?” Taako raises an eyebrow at him. “I need to clean up and get ready for when Fritz and Talley come back home. Maybe get some food. Stuff like this is always better with food.”

“You need any help?”

“No, I want to do it alone.”

“Alright,” Kravitz says, summoning his scythe. “We’re here for you, remember that.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods, and Kravitz leads him back into his apartment. He gives him a quick hug before leaving, and then goes back through. Angus checks the time. Two o’clock. Still two hours before Fritz gets off work.

First, he needs to wash his bedding. He tears it all off, pouring soap in the washer and stuffing them in. He pours out her food and water bowls, cleaning them and stacking them in the cupboard they keep— kept all of Basil’s things in. He supposes they’ll have to get rid of things now. Takes her harness and her leash and folds them up into her cupboard as well.

They’re pretty low on food in the house and it isn’t Angus’s turn to buy groceries, but he needs to do something. He walks down to the market, bags in hand, wand in his pocket. He’s not the biggest fan of wandering around this town alone, even if he lives here. It’s still the town he got kidnapped in, and he still has to pass the house every time he goes to the marketplace. But it’s fine. He hasn’t seen that man in years, and it’s not like he thirteen anymore. He can defend himself if he needs to. He won’t need to, but he can.

He grabs food he knows they like, eggs and noodles and vegetables that Talley likes raw and Fritz likes cooked. He grabs some stuff for himself as well, things to bake bread and make soups. The bill’s a little higher than he usually spends on weekly groceries, but it’s not like it really matters. They’re going to want some comfort and Angus thinks cooking is a good way to do that.

He briefly wonders why he thinks they’re going to need more comfort than himself, but lets that thought float away, doesn’t dwell on it too long.

The walk back is uneventful, but he’s still tense, which is an odd sensation considering how floaty he’s feeling. He gets started on a bread when he gets back, kneading the dough and then letting it sit for a while as he gets to work on dinner. Or late lunch. Potatoes and a sort of stew to go on top of it. It’s maybe a bit heavy but it’s comforting and he knows they both like it. He fries up the meat and gets the potatoes boiling, setting to the side the stock broths and flour. Carrots and some onion, a little garlic, some pepper. Pours it all in together.

He hears the door click as it’s unlocked, Fritz kicking her shoes off. There’s a pause before she does anything else, and then, “Hello?”

“It’s just me,” Angus says loudly from the kitchen. He shouldn’t be home. He should be teaching a class. It’s Monday, he has three classes today, and he usually stays after with Lucas to do some side research for fun.

“Why are you home so early?” She asks as she comes into the kitchen. “You should have a class right now.”

“Basil’s dead,” he says as he adds some more flour to the broth, thickening it slowly as he stirs. “I came back on my break to check on her.”

“Oh fuck, Angus,” she says, coming up next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says, grabbing the pot of potatoes and draining it in the sink. “We buried her in the backyard at the house and I cleaned up here after. I would have had you and Talley come but I didn’t want to mess you guys up at work.”

“I wish you would have,” she says, crossing her arms. “Come on, man, you’re not okay. That’s your fucking dog, you’ve had her since you were thirteen. Like, I’m not alright about it, so you’re definitely not alright about it.”

“I’m fine,” he says, a little harsher than he wanted. He stops and sighs. “Look, I got really messed up about it right when I got home, but it’s fine now. I knew she was gonna die, I’ve known, I think for a while now. It’s just part of what happens. It’s okay.”

“You’re always bad at your own emotions,” she grumbles, and seems to take in the fact that he’s cooking. “You need help?”

“Do you want to mash these?” He gestures to the potatoes. She nods and grabs the masher, snagging the step stool from beside the fridge. She mashes and he stirs and it’s fine. Fritz tells him about her day at work, which kids can’t kick a ball to save their life, and which kids are way too good at kicking balls. The stew gets done and Fritz finishes mashing the potatoes and he dishes her up a plate and hands it to her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” he says, and he means it. He wasn’t really thinking about what they’d want, just what he would’ve wanted in that situation. “I should have, or I should’ve waited to bury her, or something.”

“It’s okay,” she says, scooping up a forkful of food. “Knowing you it makes sense. You’d want her buried right away.”

He doesn’t get himself a plate, but he grabs the dough and punches it down, kneading it again and getting all the air out of it so it can rise again.

“Are you gonna eat?”

“Later,” he says absently. “I’m not really hungry right now.” He’s not really anything right now, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She drops it for the time being, and he spends the next couple hours distracting himself. He cleans his room, not that it was very messy. He finishes up that bread. He throws a load of his clothes in the washer and puts the bedding in the dryer. He cleans all the dishes that had been piling up. Frisks watches him, offers to help a few times, but he refuses her.

Talley comes home eventually, hanging up their jacket and groaning loudly as they slump against the door.

“Please tell me someone made something decent that I couldn’t have gotten at that stupid diner,” they say, kicking off their shoes loudly. Angus pulls out the plate he’d dished for them and reheats it with a quick spell, placing it their hands before they’re even fully done getting home ready.

“Oh my god I love you,” they say around a mouthful of food. “Did you get groceries? It’s my week, I was gonna do it tomorrow”

“Figured I might as well,” Angus says casually. “I wanted something more than cereal.”

“Yeah that’s fair.” They think for a moment, and then looks down at the floor all around the room. “Where’s Basil?”

“She died a little bit ago,” he says, and he catches their plate before they accidentally tip it all over the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“She—,” they, say, and they cough a moment, blinking their eyes. “She’s dead?”

“Yeah. I buried her at the house in the backyard. I didn’t want to mess you or Fritz up at work so I didn’t call, but I should have. I’m sorry.”

“Angus, what the fuck are you apologizing to me for? She’s your dog. I’m— gods dude that’s awful. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” and they make a face at him. “Okay, maybe not _fine_ but I knew it was going to happen, so it’s okay. Really, I’m alright.”

“Sounds doubtful,” Talley says, taking their plate back. They look sad. “Shit. That…” They cut off with just a noise, no words. Angus has to agree.

“Eat something,” Fritz says to him, and he jumps a little. He’d forgotten she was on the couch. “You said you would hours ago and you haven’t yet.”

She won’t give up until he does, so he nods, scooping himself up some of the stew, no potatoes. He wants flavor but no effort. The spoonfuls are heavy in his mouth, but it doesn’t matter. He’s eating, he’s getting nutrients. That’s the point, isn’t it.

Angus goes to bed without telling either one of them, and they don’t press it, allowing him to shut the door most of the way, not all the way, never all the way, and curl up in bed. Basil isn’t there against his legs, and he misses her desperately, but it’s like he’s experiencing the feeling from someone else. These aren’t feelings he can have right now. They’re for a younger Angus, one that couldn’t handle emotions and his trauma and the way the world made things worse. He can handle things now, or at least he knows how to shove them away so he doesn’t have to deal with them.

Sleep is hard, and while he doesn’t dream anything worth remembering, he wakes up disoriented and anxious in the morning, looking around the room and checking on things that have been the same since he moved in here. He gets dressed and finds himself staring at the open fridge, looking for nothing. He closes the door and breathes, eyes closed for a moment, and reopens it, grabbing a juice. He takes a slice of bread form the loaf he made yesterday and munches on it idly, consuming for the purpose of consumption. The juice wakes him up a little, taste duller than usual, but it’s fine. He only has one class today, and then he can bury himself in grading and assignment making for the rest of the day.

Talley is already at work, and Fritz will be getting up soon, and he won’t bother either of them with good mornings or how are you’s. He’s going to go to work, do his job, and he’s going to be fine.

The walk down the forest path leaves him shaking and jittery, but as long as he can take a second in his office without interacting with anyone he’ll be alright.

He gets that moment in the office, but it doesn’t do much for him. Lucas calls him into his office before his class and he knows what this is about, knows he doesn’t want to have this conversation.

“Hey,” he says when he gets there, putting his pen down. “Good morning, Angus.”

“Morning, Lucas,” he mutters out.

“How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I know it probably wasn’t… great, hearing from Kravitz yesterday. And I’m sorry I cancelled class. I just needed a day, I think. I’m alright for right now.”

Angus has chosen his words carefully. If he makes it sound like he knows how his emotions are working here, makes them sound healthy and grieving, he’ll get out of this conversation faster.

“Don’t worry about yesterday. I’m a little surprised you’re here today, honestly. I thought you’d at least take until tomorrow, maybe a little longer.”

“I think a little distraction is good for me,” he says lightly, a little bit of humor in his voice. Lucas gives him a half smile and he takes it as a win.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He pauses, looks at Angus intensely, and then narrows his eyes. “I mean it.”

“I know,” he says, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry so much. I can take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” he says gently, and then he grabs his pen. “You have a good class.”

“Thanks,” he says, and when he gets to the classroom, there’s about half the students there. He gives them some casual greetings. It’s only fair, he thinks, to give them the same assignment as the other classes. Mystery story based loosely, or heavily if they want, around their lives. Any topic, whatever they want.

He doesn’t lose himself in this class, but it’s a close thing. Grading comes next, and he busies himself in his office with papers, reading through papers and answers, circling words he likes and bracketing things he thinks could use work. It’s kind of autopilot, but it also keeps him in the moment.

The day goes by faster than he expected, and when he goes home it’s almost dark. He busies himself with cleaning, scrubbing the bathroom, rearranging his clothes, getting rid of some of them. Talley brings a massive pile of their clothes into the room and sits next to him, sorting and folding and putting into giveaway piles. Angus appreciates the effort.

The rest of the week really goes by in a haze. He doesn’t feel anything but the ever increasing anxiety as he wakes up feeling displaced and off kilter. The whole apartment is practically spotless, as is his office at the school. He runs out of grading and starts looking over new cases that have come in. He probably won’t take any, he knows when his brain is to messed up to focus on detective work, but it’s a distraction, and a good one. He gets to try and figure out what the problem is and who the culprit will be.

Friday rolls around and it’s time for his class to turn in their mysteries. Nothing to stressful. He has a group work session planned for the class today, working on their next presentation, so he can spend the time getting a head start on reading these.

They’re first drafts, and some of them are a little bit painfully obvious in their draftness, but none of them are boring. Some of them are pretty good, actually. He’s having an alright time reading them.

And then he gets to Kensey’s.

Kensey’s starts out with a boy that goes missing, and that’s a benign detail, plenty of these stories have started like that. But this one starts with a boy who goes walking in the woods and doesn’t come back. People search and search but they don’t find him. Little clues are left around the town, notes from the boy and the thing that took him. Hints at where he was, where he’ll be, how things are going for him. Things are not going well for him. There’s blood on the notes.

Angus is having a little bit of a hard time breathing, which is stupid. This has nothing to do with him, Kensey would have been five or six when he got taken, but he can’t shake the feeling. That feeling of getting dragged through the underbrush, waking up in a cold unfamiliar place, having to talk to Taako over the stone, hearing _him_ talk to Taako over the stone.

The notes stop showing up. They get sparser and sparser until one day there’s no more. No one hears about the boy ever again, people stop looking. He becomes whispers, and then less then that, a cautionary tale, a warning to children, a murmured moral.

Kensey’s too good of a writer, Angus thinks absently, before drowning in panic.

He doesn’t know how long he flounders for, but eventually there’s a hand on his shoulder, a point of contact he can use to ground himself with. His vision focuses in and it takes him a moment to recognize the face in front of him, but he’s known Lucas’s face for a long time.

Why is he here?

“Angus,” he says very quietly. It occurs to him that they’re still in class. A quick glance to the side grants him a few students gazing questioningly at them, but most of them are focused on their work. “Are you with me?”

He nods and takes a shuddering breath. His hands loosen on the paper he’s holding, releasing Kensey’s honestly good submission. Looking back around finds Kensey standing awkwardly by the door, staring at him worriedly. He gives him a shaky smile before looking back at Lucas.

“I’m going to pull you out into the hallway and tell your students that I’m borrowing you for a bit, and then we’re going to your office and you’re taking a second to breathe,” Lucas tells him, still just as quiet, but there’s an edge to his tone that means he’s not going to take no for an answer here. Angus nods and untenses himself, ready to go out into the fray of the world.

Lucas nods at him and stands up straighter, raising his eyebrows. Angus stands as well.

“Sorry, guys, but I have to borrow your teacher for a minute to talk about some stuff,” Lucas says easily, apologetically, comedically. It’s kind of a feat, really. Angus smile sheepishly and shrugs his shoulders. He’s good at deflecting attention as well. “Don’t get too chatty!”

Angus is still holding Kensey’s paper and he can see him look at it as they leave, his face contorting in a way he isn’t sure how to deal with. The trek back to his office takes no time at all and once the door closes Lucas shoves him into his seat.

Angus holds out for a minute, breathing steadily and setting the paper on his desk. And then he can’t, eyes blurring over and body hunching up, fingers gripping his knees, air coming into his body in sharp bursts. His foot is tapping, he thinks, but it’s just more movement, adding to the sensation of dying he has going on in his chest.

Lucas gives him a few minutes of choking on air before sitting on the floor in front of him, offering his hands for Angus to grab. He takes them, squeezing them probably too hard, but he doesn’t say anything, just sits there. It’s comforting. It’s not Basil, nothing will ever be her or like her again, but it’s something. An anchor.

He calms down eventually, closing his eyes, letting himself settle. It’s over. It’s been over. He feels pathetic, but more so he feels drained.

“You okay?” Lucas asks, squeezing his hands.

“Better now,” he says truthfully. He’s not a hundred percent, but he’s getting there. “Why were you there?”

“One of your kids came and got me,” Lucas says. “Said you look pretty freaked about something on one of the papers you’d gotten today. Apparently no on else noticed, but he came and got me anyway.”

“Kensey,” Angus groans, pulling his hands back. “That’s… excellent. Gods. He saw what paper it was when we left too. No, no no no.”

“Whose was it?” He asks, pulling it off the desk. His eyebrows go up as he reads the student name and his shoulders slump. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh.’ I’m gonna have to talk to him about it, and I should probably ask what the basis is, too. Ugh.” He rolls his shoulders back and shakes his head out to clear it.

“This is… uncomfortably dark,” Lucas says. “Not even in an overt way, it’s just unsettling.”

“I told him he could write about whatever he wanted, and he did follow the school set guidelines. I just need to make sure everything is fine.”

“Uh,” Lucas looks at him, brows furrowed. “I think you need to make sure you’re fine. That was not pleasant to watch. I don’t think I’d want to know what it felt like first hand.”

“I’m fine,” he says, but that pit of anxiety he’s had all week is still there. “I just needed a minute. I should honestly get back.”

“They’re fine. It hasn’t been that long. Just breathe for a little bit, okay? You have to. I’m your boss.”

“Kind of a shitty move, boss,” he jokes weakly, but he does let himself breathe. It’s more than he’s done in the past couple days. There’s a time, eventually, when he does have to go back, and Lucas lets him, reluctantly. The walk back is almost shameful, and he readjusts himself a few times jut to be sure he’s presentable. His students give him a look when he comes back, but most go back to their work, quiet murmuring and laughing filling up the space.

He sets Kensey’s paper to the side, he’ll deal with it later. The rest of the stories are uneventful compared to that one. Some are a little bit on the gory side and he marks them for gratuitous violence that has nothing to do with the plot.

The class ends and he reminds everyone that presentations are due in a week, that they’ll be getting their feedback next week. Kensey lags behind, scuffing his feet by the door, holding his bag straps anxiously. Angus sighs and waits until the rest of the students have lft to motion him over.

“I’m sorry,” Kensey blurts out. “I don’t know what I wrote but I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Angus says immediately. “It was good, actually. Really good. Visceral? There’s this undercurrent of tension throughout and the way it stays there the entire time while bleeding into the background is good.”

These are his honest opinions. He’d like it more if it didn’t cause him to have a flashback in the middle of class, but not everything can be perfect for him. Kensey seems to relax, but he’s still tense.

“Is everything okay with you, though?” His face scrunches up in confusion and Angus continues. “These were meant to be based off your life, however loosely. I just want to make sure things are okay.”

“Oh,” he says, sheepish. “It wasn’t really that dramatic, but I lived in this little woodsy town and all of the kids would play this really elaborate hide and seek where we’d leave each other clues around the town on our hiding spots. They were really good hiding spots, and most of them were around the woods somewhere. This one kid, I didn’t know him too well, left a bunch of notes because he had found the best hiding spot in the woods or something and thought we’d need the help, and he got lost or tripped or something. No one could find him and then he didn’t come back, because everyone came back once the sun came down. It was like, years and years of searching and no one was allowed in the woods. They found his body in a ditch buried up by shrubs and dirt and stuff way later and no one’s really sure what happened, but it didn’t look too pleasant.”

Kensey pauses and rubs at the back of his hair. “I’d always wondered what happened, even after they found him, how he got so caught up in the woods, how no one was able to find him in all that time. I dunno. It always kind of ate at me.”

Angus rests back on his desk, arms crossed. That is interesting backstory, and he can see how all the speculation could morph it into that. It was well written, and it was visceral.

“Are you okay?” he asks him. Angus nods.

“I’m okay. It struck a little too close to home for me. Something… something similar to what you wrote happened when I was a kid and it just brought up some unpleasant memories.”

Kensey’s quiet, staring at the ground between their feet, and Angus is quick to continue. “It’s good, Kensey. Really. My personal experiences don’t need to color your writing. If need be I can have someone with a little fresher eyes take a look at it for me. Don’t stifle your writing because of me.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Thank you, though. For the feedback?”

“You’re good at this, don’t worry,” he says, smiling. “Just focus on writing and you’ll be okay.”

He nods and motions to the door. Angus motions towards it too, nodding. He leaves then, waving small-ly and saying a goodbye. Angus waves him off as well, and once the door is shut, he sags.

Fuck.

He’s not doing as good as he thought.

He can deal with hat later, though. He has one more class to teach and then he’s free to deal with his problems.

That class goes fine, with no hiccups, and none of their papers raise any kind of alarm. He gets to think, and think more. He should do something about this, but he has no idea what.

His questions are answered as he finished packing up for the day and his stone rings. He picks up, a bit confused. “Hello?”

“Sup, kiddo,” Taako says from his hand. “You got anything going on tonight?”

“Not that I can think of,” he says honestly, tiredly. “I was going to go home and try to figure somethings out, but—”

“Yeah, I kinda figured. Come over tonight, yeah? Have some dinner with your family.”

Something clicks in Angus’s head and he stops, gets a little angry. “Did Lucas call you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about bubbeleh,” he says too smoothly to be telling the truth. Angus grits his teeth and sighs. “Totally unrelated, but I heard one of your kids totally wrecked your emotional shit today and you could probably use some proper cooking and a hug. Am I right?”

A hug does sound nice. And he is a little tired of cooking his own comfort food. “Yeah okay.”

“Sweet! Because Krav should be there—,” the rip comes from behind him. “Now!”

He turns to find Kravitz, arms crossed, smiling at him. He gives a tired smile back. The rift takes no time and then he’s in the living room of his house. Taako’s flouncing around throwing pillows places and he catches sight of Angus.

“Hoo boy, Angles, you look like shit.”

“Hello to you too, Taako,” he says in the same tone.

“C’mere, kid,” he says, offering his arms up, and Angus drops his bag and drops his head on Taako’s shoulder, letting himself get held. It feels wrong. He still feels like he’s too old for this, that he should be able to categorize his hurts and deal with them by not dealing with them, but this is so nice. It’s so nice. Gods, he’s missed a hug.

“Not feelin’ too hot, are you.” It’s not a question, but he shakes his head no anyway. “Didn’t think so.”

“’M trying,” Angus says, and Taako tightens his grip.

“Sometimes you gotta not try, pumpkin. I’m pretty sure you’re not dealing with shit right now and you’re trying not to spill on anyone, including yourself. Amiright?”

“Mhm,” he mutters. There’s something heavy in his throat, in his body. He tries to push it back, but everything is so present. He chokes a bit, eyes watering.

“Skeletor, get in this bomb ass hug,” Taako says, and Kravitz hugs him from behind. Angus is surrounded on both sides and it’s so warm and so comforting and it feels so much like home that he can’t stop himself from crying. It’s loud and it’s ugly and he doesn’t look up the entire time, whole body hurting from the force of it.

“I miss her,” he blubbers out. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” Taako says, squeezing him tighter. “I know, Angus. It’s alright.”

“Everything feels bad and wrong and tense and I don’t have her there to pull me back from it all and that’s not even the worst of it. I just miss her. I don’t even care if she couldn’t be my service dog anymore. She was so _good._ ”

He doesn’t say anything else, just cries some more, and Kravitz tightens his hold as well. He wants to stop hurting, to get the ache out of his heart, but she’s gone and he has no way to keep everything blocked up anymore.

He stops crying eventually, and he wiggles his way out of their hold, desperate to not touch anyone right now. They let him go, and he goes to his old room, pulling the spare pair of gloves that he so rarely needs now out of the drawer. They slip on easily and he ambles his way to the couch, only pulling off his shoes once his feet are securely on the cushions.

Kravitz brings him water and sits on the opposite edge, waiting patiently.

“I don’t think I’m okay.” He says quietly. “I thought I was but I’m pretty sure I’m really, really not.”

“I think you’re grieving, and that coupled with you not having your main source of anxiety relief, and both of them being the same, is throwing you off.” Kravitz takes a sip from his own water. “And that’s okay.”

“I was like… I was good. Or I thought I was good? I was doing really good. And she wasn’t but I thought I had a couple months to deal with it, but then she just died.” He has a horrible thought and his eyes get leaky. “I pulled out all her good and she died.”

“Nope,” Taako says, plopping into the space between Kravitz and Angus. “Nah, we’re not doing that. You didn’t kill your fucking dog by getting better at handling your trauma. That’s all kinds of fucked up and I’m not letting you keep that thought.  She died because she was old and that’s what happens when things get too old.”

He nods, curling his arms around his legs.

“Also, that’s kinda rude to her, don’t you think? She loved you too. She wouldn’t have just done that shit, Ango. She loved you, but she was old, and it’s death. It happens and it sucks, and gods you’re so allowed to feel fucked up about it, but don’t go blaming it on yourself.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he says into his knees. “I’ve been trying not to feel anything but I feel so fucking scared all the time and then one of my students turned in this story about a kid getting snatched in the woods and never showing back up and I—”

He chokes and loses his voice mid sentence, staring blankly ahead, face contorting. Taako’s hand finds his shoulder and he shivers, dropping his head into his knees.

“That’s uh, shit. Lucas didn’t go into detail. But that’s not the best.”

He doesn’t say anything, hunched in on himself and hurting, but it almost feels better than the nothing he’s been trying to hard to keep up with distraction after distraction after distraction. He’s getting what he needs, some sort of emotional release after keeping it all locked up. He’s never been great at hiding his emotions, especially from Taako and Kravitz.

“I think,” Taako starts. And then he stops for a while and Angus looks up to find him having a near silent conversation with Kravitz. They both seem to agree on something and he turns back, jumping a bit when he see’s his head up. “Fuck. Warn a guy.”

“You think?” he asks, raspy.

“I think we should’a made you go see a shrink years ago,” Taako say, pursing his lips. “But you got so freaked out by the idea anytime it got brought up I thought it’d do more harm than good.”

Angus is quiet, face blank. He doesn’t like to pander to the idea of seeing a therapist. Up until now he’s had Basil, and dumping all his stuff on a stranger with a degree always felt like being more of a burden than he already was.

“I don’t want to do that,” he says quietly. “I don’t really think it’s that great of an idea.”

“You’ve been using Basil to throw your worries on, yes?” Kravitz asks from the edge of the couch. Angus nods, reluctantly. “It’s kind of like that, but with someone who can give you advice back.”

“Feels like being a burden.” Taako opens his mouth but he cuts him off. “I know I’m not and I know that’s their job, but it still feels like that.”

It’s quiet for a little bit, and then, “At least talk to us, then. Or your friends. Fuck, kid, someone.”

Angus looks at him, brows furrowed. “It… it felt like she died and that meant I was supposed to have figured out by now so I couldn’t anymore.”

“That’s not how this works! You don’t get unfucked because your relief’s not around anymore. And just cause you’re an adult doesn’t mean you have to be all good now too. You think anyone if this fucked up little family is any kind of unfucked at this point? We’re all hundreds of years old, Ango. You’re gonna stay fucked up for a while”

As uncomforting as that should be, it actually makes him feel better. He isn’t alone in being an adult and not feeling good. He doesn’t have to hold it all in by himself and hope to any god listening that he doesn’t break at the wrong time, like today.

“Okay,” he says instead of any argument he could make. “Okay I’ll… I’ll try to talk to people more.”

“Yes,” Taako hisses out, slumping back into the couch. “Yes you got the message. I was so worried you weren’t gonna.”

“As if you get messages on the first try all the time.”

“This is like try eighty seven, kid. Not the first try even a little bit.”

That sounds plausible but he doesn’t want to garner it with a real response so he doesn’t, sniffing a bit instead.

“Can I stay tonight?”

“Yeah, there’s still a bed in there. You can stay whenever.”

“You may wish to call your friends and let them know.”

Oh. Yeah. Gods, he hadn’t even thought of how he was going to deal with them tonight. This makes things a little better.

“I’m gonna, uh, go do that.”

“Good luck,” Taako calls after him as he slips outside, sliding his shoes back on.

He calls Talley, knows they’ll be off work now. They pick up on the second ring. “Hey! I was wondering where you were.”

“I’m staying at the house tonight,” he says into the stone. “Last minute thing that I absolutely did not plan on.”

“Aw geez, is everything alright?”

“For the most part,” he says honestly, because now that is true. “Just had to sort some things out.”

“Well good. Hey, you guys always end up baking something really good, so bring some of that home alright? Cranberry bread is in short supply at the apartment.”

“Of course,” he says , smiling. Talley love cranberry bread way more than he ever expected them to, but it’s not to feel appreciated in his baking. “Any other requests?”

“Peach cobbler.”

“That is… very specific. And not something that I make that often? What— Talley why peach cobbler?”

“Because it’s fucking good,” they say, scoffing. “I love peach cobbler, and I know you like it too.”

“Fine,” he says, exasperated. “If we get the time and the ingredients, I’ll make you peach cobbler. No promises.”

“That’s as good as a promise coming from you!” They say snarkily. “Okay, see you tomorrow, loveyoubye!”

It’s all so rushed that he can’t get a word in to refute that claim. Angus sighs, but smiles. It is as good as a promise from him, and he knows he’ll make the cobbler.

He’s out back, and he knows what’s back here. He goes back to the tree and hesitates just a moment before sitting down at the base, right at her grave.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry everything was so rushed at the end.”

She doesn’t answer back, he knows she won’t, but it still aches. He gets more comfortable, rests a hand on his knee and his head on his hand.

“I wish we had more time, but I wish I handled the end better. It wasn’t good of me to keep pushing you out like that, even if I did give you off days. And… the end end. I think I knew, that day. I know I knew. But even the way I reacted, no goodbye, no proper speech, nothing. I loved you and I gave you nothing.”

But that’s not true. He gave her a home and food and care and love. So much love.

“I miss you,” he says, a little choked, face damp. “I miss you so much, Basil. You were such a good girl. You were so good.”

And he’s crying in earnest now, but it’s a good cry, a grieving cry.

“I love you.”

He stays out there for a while, sitting at her grave, crying into her dirt, hoping that she knows what he’s saying. Hoping she feels his love, wherever she is. That she knows he misses her and loves her and loved the small, so small amount of time he got with her.

Taako comes out eventually, come to see where he went for so long when it was just meant to be a stone call.

“Hey, bubbeleh,” he says quietly, careful not to disturb the air. “You want company?”

“Mhm,” he offers, scooching over a bit for Taako, who takes his seat immediately.

“You alright?”

“Nah,” he says honestly. “But I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be.”

He’s certain, in fact, that he’s going to be. This feels good, this feels healthy. He loved her, loves her, but she’s gone. And it sucks, but he can still tell her his worries and sit with her, just differently now.

“Yeah?”

Angus McDonald has had twelve years with a dog that might have actually loved him more than he loved her, and it’s devastating that that’s over. But he’s growing. He’s growing and he’s not going to stop, and he’ll make it to some semblance of better, one day. And he’s not alone.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning against Taako’s side. “I’m gonna be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! And welcome to the end of this series that you've all been through with me.  
> This is like, really sad, but i have my reasons.  
> I wrote the first fic in this series as a one off oneshot to help me deal with my emotions with something that happened back in April 2018. I got robbed at my job at what i later found out was gunpoint and it really fucked with my head. I went to a way different extreme in circle around, but it helped. And then i got hit with inspiration for a whole series of fics, and this was always going to be the last one, because in that same month, a week or two later, one of my cats that i'd grown up with died. April was a kinda fucked month!  
> And those are emotions i hadn't really sorted out until now, and this whole series has been a lot of categorizing for me and figuring out how to handle things like this. this end note's kind of super personal, but you know, it's like that sometimes.  
> So thank you, readers, for sticking with me through this series and all the hurts and helps it's had. It means a lot, every comment i get on these, and i'm sorry that this last one had to be so sad, but I hope it does something for you, even just a little bit.


End file.
